I spent the whole weekend binge-smoking tobacco whether it was smoked via rolled-up paper tubes or narghile laced with strawberry and apple flavors.
Natalie's rooftop apartment. overlooked several sectors of the city and with summer humidity et nicotine we partied the night away.
Charlie, her adorable but very shy husband, smiled and kept the men fueled with cigarettes and spirits whilst natalie ran round in an emerald-fired sheer top that floated between the heady, sexy smoke.
The apt oozed club-luxe stamped with deep fawn leather sofas and chocolate colored cherrywood heavily embellished with a million dairy diamontes and delicate oval canapes, wild mushroom pizettes, grainfed chicken pizettes, vine-ripen tomato brushetta, glowing atlantic salmon salad, multi-leaf salad splashed with village-brought balsamic vinegar, honey dripping baked pastries wrapped round hand-smattered cream, delicate european sandwiches and olives. These were no ordinary olives found in highrise bottles inside supermarket postcodes but perfectly bodied tinged in dead-sea brine , giving when nudged inbetween tongue and teeth.
The women etched sophistication through conversation sharp as their Gucci heels and Louis vuitton epi-leather handbags with an occasional quip
"my 8year old son went into the bathroom last week and set alight my Italian lingerie. I asked him why he said "because i want you to have french ones!!"
The evening drifted back and forth like a moon-drunk tide, drinks came, food nibbled but seldom heard, how does one eat a watercracker without making a noise? culminating in the birthday cake.
Lit by sparklers which reflected shards from double digit carats dripping off ladies ears, necks and ankles an imposing room lit up as if we were inside an exploding chysanthemumn on new years eve. We sang and clapped and then the cake was cut with a swift hush we broke our well rehearsed demeanor succumbing to an exceptionally erotic chocolate mudcake roofed in veils of vanilla icing.
One lady fresh with blonde highlights completely let herself go and spoke of the importance of purchasing multiple gem items.
"if you see a diamond necklace you like then why not have one made of rubies and one of sapphires too, you don't just one handbag do you? ", with chocolate mudcake swarming round the corners of her mouth.
We all agreed.

.

Why has porn gotten so boring?

Once porn was something that trigged off an adreniline rush, a pulse from one axis to the other resulting in being submersed in a plastic-fantastic world.
Now all i see are shadows knotted upon a meek horizon with the smell of repeation lapping between restless legs.

hmmm another ciggarette please....

One more cup of coffee - Bob dylan.

Your breath is sweet
Your eyes are like two jewels in the sky.
Your back is straight, your hair is smooth
On the pillow where you lie.
But I don't sense affection
No gratitude or love
Your loyalty is not to me
But to the stars above.

One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee before I go
To the valley below.

Your daddy he's an outlaw
And a wanderer by trade
He'll teach you how to pick and choose
And how to throw the blade.
He oversees his kingdom
So no stranger does intrude
His voice it trembles as he calls out
For another plate of food.

One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee before I go
To the valley below.

Your sister sees the future
Like your mama and yourself.
You've never learned to read or write
There's no books upon your shelf.
And your pleasure knows no limits
Your voice is like a meadowlark
But your heart is like an ocean
Mysterious and dark.

One more cup of coffee for the road,
One more cup of coffee before I go
To the valley below.

Copyright © 1975 Ram's Horn Music

,

It hasn't been eventful for me lately, work has been and.. been with new staff (again) and alot of people put on hold disrupting the flow of common existing modalities.

The lady at the very antique store revealed to me she has a "new man in her life" .
Prem at the french patiserrie divulged her new male acquisition.

And i wore skinny black pants with trainers today, i was feeling very last-season.

..

i'm still staring at the computer-generated man.......

'

if only they made real men as sexy as this
computer-generated one....

hmm i think it's a long time between drinks...

..

Such is the joy of working an extra day et extra hours... i can feel my mind going numb.
But the pay is good provided i can save it..
Anyway when i look up at the stars all i can see is the glossy reflection of the ocean.

i should sleep, i have to wake-up at 7 tomorrow but i can't. Maybe i o'd on guarana or that, i'm actaully tired.

I should start writing again, it might improve my, self esteem.

.

Ergh.... so early today.. waking up at 8am must never be a sunday activity, i''m sure the governement will have a law against it one day. Had to visit my dead grandmother... it was so windy out there my hair was messed and the incense and burnt bits of gold-paper nuggets flew up into the air and my demeanour was poised.
So we cleaned and made it all shiny again with plastic flowers, "because they last longer".. then headed to an all you can eat buffet.
It was hedious even where there is alot of food from lasgna to fried crab claws to hastily boiled wontons. I just headed for the dessert section and had bowl and bowls of soft-serve ice cream plus sprinkles.
I was so exhausted when i got back i slept and missed the 'paper' exhibiton/runway show at the powerhouse. But anyway,

pete

Met up with Pete today and had great fun.
we hit the cafes and did a little bit of shopping, he's looking cool as ever a-la tokyo mode.

The boy wore paisley over bright modern t-shirt with pointy angsty moccasins, so modern-layered-ethnic. You're saying alot there pete!

Atleast he wont be mistaken for 'emo' that new-wave of angsty teenagers, the ones who are pissed-off via their mobilephones .
A client of mine was telling me about them, then today whilst in the city there were so many...post grung, post goth, post everything... green hair colour and black t-shirts... ahhh... i remember when... no i don't.
I was goth in a ungaro sense.

Sitting in 'the wall cafe' (there's one in melbourne too i think) with pete nibbling on smoked salmon pide we contemplated our ever-evolving lives, hands on chins and looking away from the camera lens... maybe one day we'll find a balance between capitalist comfort and socialist ideals. In the meantime it's slave to the wage which reminds me.. i have to go to bed for tomorrows onslaught.

oh, the singer i was thinking of when we were talking about joni mitchell was actually marianne faithful !, she had a relationship with mick jagger and sang 'ballad of lucy jordan" .. ...